What Does A Sustainable Future Look Like?

This post is prompted by an article in the New York Times last Sunday on the imminent (possibility) of developing a vast industrial zone with coal-burning power plants, oil refineries, and steel mills, on dozens of miles of lush, nurturing coastline in the city of Dawei, Myanmar (Burma).
The article broke my heart. Because this is undeniably who we are today.
Thailand needs the power, and Myanmar needs the jobs. Everything is expanding, and our population is proliferating. It seems in order to sustain the lifestyles that we currently enjoy, we need to keep building and burning. Building and burning.
What was once the 'American Dream' is now the 'Universal Dream'. We all want a family to love with, a house to live in, nourishment, and health. And we should desire these things. Everyone deserves comfort and warmth, not just the wealthy or the developed. But how can it not makes me sad and uncomfortable when I am the culprit of my environment too? These things keep us alive longer but deplete our resources faster. So maybe there is another way to dream, so that we can live life with joy, and the Earth can grow and replenish it's skin.
Do I want to have babies that grow up into children, teenagers, and then adults that will then want to have more babies? Some day my children will not have this gorgeous Earth that we have now. I wish I was smart enough to live without the things we are told that we need. I wish we had created something that was sustainable, because this currently is not. But wishing is not going to make a difference when it comes to this. Change is going to take the effort of every one on this planet.

Here is a link the the article... http://www.nytimes.com/2010/11/27/world/asia/27iht-myanmar.html?_r=2&pagewanted=3&sq=myanmar&st=cse&scp=2
I hope it makes you sad, inspired, and motivated.

18 lb turkey for 2

Small Update

To: Those Across the Country

I have been writing papers, preparing for finals, and celebrating birthdays and holidays. I'll be in Wyoming, South Dakota, and mainly Nashville and Chicago next month. I will post some pictures when they are sorted through, and I would very much like to see those that live in those areas...please...

From: Terry

A Telephone Call to Michigan

I missed a call on my phone the other day, and I didn't recognize the number. They didn't leave a message, and since I'm job hunting, Matthew said I should call them back. I think that's awkward...hey, um, did you call me? who is this again? what?

But I noticed that it was a Michigan area code, and one near Traverse City. I have a friend who is a heroin addict that lives with his folks in in the Upper Peninsula. I am often afraid I will get a call from this family saying that he overdosed. So, after deliberation, the next day I call the number back hoping that it's not his Dad that answers.

Nope. It's Camile. She is a woman, living near Grand Rapids, MI actually, and originally from Crystal Lake, IL. She won't tell me how old she is, but I can tell the decade, and that she's a smoker. After we try, but don't figure out how/why she called me, she still wants to chat. So she tells me about her husband, a Chicago cop for 25 years, who wants to retire to a trailer in Florida and does, and who dies in 2004 after they move back up to the Midwest again. She still misses him, but she has great kids who take care of her and look after her every day. She tells me to love my Mom, and call her every day. She asks about siblings, and I tell her I have twin brothers. She seems happy that I talk to at least one of the four of my family every day. I can hear her smiling. She tells me to find love, and to keep it, and to love every minute of every day, because one day it will be gone. She tells me she hopes I am not scared of her, that she's not a creep, and that too many today live in fear. I laugh because she used the word creep, and I tell her it's nice to talk to someone I've never met. After about 35 minutes we hang up. She calls back an hour later and tells me she figured out how our numbers crossed and she says goodbye again.

Seasons of Change

Seattle Autumn is mild, but those fire balls on tree trunks are not as vivid when light doesn't dance on the leaves. But when the sunlight slices through the thick gray for a few minutes, it's beautiful. Although I think Chicago has some of the most spectacular Fall months I've ever seen...So I wonder what do the seasons mean? Why do our bodies respond with stuffy noses and dry skin? Why do colors mute, and gray filters cover my hazel eyes? Why do endorphins and energy levels change? Our thoughts look forward to December, and dread January? Christmas is no coincidence. Our souls may hibernate but they drink, eat, and are still hungry for company. Green grass is still underneath the cold, but our bare feet are inside on warm carpet. Then Spring emerges, and we are rejuvenated; but why not be refreshed by Winter?

Early Winter Spires

Matthew was ahead of me, the first of the two of us to climb back over the "whales hump" that sits up another 40 feet above the 400 feet we have already climbed. He scampers out a couple feet as I hold the rope, turns around, swings his leg over the steep side and straddles the hump. He grabs the spine of the rock with his left hand and raises up his right arm, swinging it in circles. 'Yeeeehaaaawwww', riding his horse on top of the world, he smiles the biggest smile I have ever seen. And I know he's home. I know after all these years of knowing each other, endless discussions of photography, school, travel, careers, rock climbing, kayaking, the past and the future, and how do all of these align to make the most beautiful life we've ever seen... he has found a home on that mountain horizon. I am so happy for him, and I am so happy for me. It's not always simple or easy, but this new city, geography, landscape, has given us the distance to be ourselves when we need to be, but be as one when the sun sets, and you're looking for that hand to hold.
Life is taking on new meaning for me lately.

write, call, email, blog, paint, print, and participate

Communication has has been focusing on other aspects of my life lately. It feels like it's been a long time since I have put some effort into writing. This blog needs to become something that it currently is not. But I am not sure what transformation this blog deserves. I am not a photographer. I am not a [good] blogger. Really, I am not interesting enough that anyone wants to seriously check out what I do. But I like my life, and I do interesting things every day. But we all do. And today, many think that their lives are worth broadcasting and shouting. I don't know what I think of that.

So, I write. Because I can. It's free and I am not bad at it.

But I am in a nonprofit management program, and I think in the future I will write more about what I discover about this sector. I will write about news, about developments in the arts world, about the pacific northwest nonprofit industry. Or maybe I won't write at all. Maybe I will just live my life and not tell anyone about what I am doing, because if they really want to know, they'll ask. And if I really want them to know, I'll call. I just can't decide right now. Monday morning seems so cold and stiff so far.

So, I'd like to hear about what people are doing. But you don't all have blogs, so I guess I'll have to write you all a letter to ask and find out.


I like the ease of technology, but waiting for mail has improved my patience and consequently my relationships. I love many things. And I love to look at what people think is interesting, and what kind of art they are creating. So I partake in the participation and consumption of mass art. We are now what is called ProAms, Professional Amateurs. I am an amateur of hundreds of things, and a professional at nearly nothing. Consequently, I cannot claim the word professional in any title of mine. Let's have a discussion of what the heck that means.